24 Hours
by Neuronerd
Summary: Sylar's thoughts and experiences during 24 hours of his life. Loosley follows events and set midway through season 1
1. Chapter 1 Food for Thought

**Chapter 1- Food for Thought**

I sat quietly in the back of the stately library as I always did, watching the ebb and flow of humanity pass before me. None of them took notice of me, and if they did they would still have no idea who I was or what I could do. I prided myself on my ability to look like a nobody, all the while watching and observing.

There was so much to be learned about a person without ever saying a word. Take for example shoes. Did a woman wear Jimmy Choos that were too tight just for vanity and recognition of status? If a businessman had on newly polished loafers- chances are he was on his way to meet a new client he wanted to impress. If they were well worn, he was established and comfortable in his career. People who wore sandals were either on vacation or non-conformists. This was just one area. Factor in clothing, jewelry, handbags and especially facial expressions and you could damn near write an essay on who they were and their cultural preferences.

But I never really had to think about any of these things, it all just seemed so obvious. Call it my gift.

I am aware that not everyone can do this, I guess I have always known in some way that I was different from others. Looking back now I was probably a very precocious child, somehow having access to knowledge that other children did not. I learned by watching and the answers became as clear as if the teacher had written it in chalk on the board.

I glanced down at the book in my hand so as not to appear suspicious. I had read Darwin's _Origin of the Species_ in high school, but the science stacks were the darkest in the library and it was the first book I picked off the shelf as I took my seat. Besides, I was at home here. I did well in both math and science in school. Again, because of the ease with which I was able to integrate and follow theories based on the systems they attempted to explain. I smirked despite myself; I think I was the only person in my class to get an A in physics II. I could discuss advanced mathematical proofs and string theory with equal ease, but as you might imagine not exactly Mr. Popularity. I didn't go to dances or sports games and I had no friends. People only noticed me in the hallway if they ran into me. This went on for the entire four years of public school.

A sigh escaped my lips as I absentmindedly turned the pages of the worn volume. _What a wasted life_.

I didn't go to college. I should have, it may have made a difference. Get out of Queens, meet new people, fall in love, get drunk and miss an exam- it is all part of getting to know who you are. I didn't do that. Nope, the son of a watchmaker stayed home with his slightly infantile mother and learned to repair watches himself. How could I leave her? She was almost destroyed when I moved into my own apartment at 25 not more than 10 blocks away.

I became aware of the slight but pointed feeling of irritation. I didn't want to spend one more second ruminating on the past. I squinted my eyes and tried to clear my head to better focus on the task at hand. I came here for something and I wasn't leaving without it.

I scanned the vast room again. It was then I spotted her by the circulation desk. She was helping an older man locate a book on fly fishing when I stood behind him in line. While she looked up the information on a computer, I thought of what I might ask in order to elicit her services. Whatever it was, it had to get her away from that desk and from other people. I had noted a door to an interior hallway by the medical reference section. My mind raced…what could I possibly ask for that would get her back there?

"May I help you, sir?" Her voice was light and sweet and lacked the insincerity most customer service workers obviously felt. Caught off guard, I approached the desk with a sheepish smile and stammered, "I am looking for information on bilirubin levels in liver patients." She had an amused look on her face. "Post-transplant." I quickly added with a decisive nod.

I was amazed at my own ability to create such official sounding bullshit on the fly sometimes. A 'silver tongue' I have heard it called. Not an ability per se, but fascinating nonetheless considering I had always been quiet and shy and spent as little time talking as possible. I knew bilirubin had something to do with the liver, but that was as far as my logic went. No matter, she seemed impressed and began typing on her keyboard with a smile still on her face.

I tentatively placed my hands on the desk and leaned forward in anticipation. She was not what you would call beautiful, but she possessed a certain allure for me nonetheless. I was almost honored that I would be the last to benefit from her cheer and eagerness to help.

I almost salivated when I thought of possessing her power. What the other patrons of the library and no doubt her coworkers did not know was that her consultations with the computer were hardly necessary; she was a walking card catalog. In her mind she stored the locations and topics of most books within these walls. She had near perfect eidetic memory and soon it would be mine.

After enough time had passed for the charade, she turned her face to me and stated, "We do not have any books on liver transplants, but we do have an extensive collection of research journals, several of which deal exclusively with transplant medicine."

I forced my lips to spread across my face into a smile and said in a low and sultry tone , "That will do nicely."

I followed her to a rack of large leather bound books, each containing a year's worth of journal articles on topics from anesthesiology to neonatal neurology. My heart skipped a beat when I spotted the door only a row away. I quickly looked around and did not note any nearby patrons that may interfere.

When she turned her back to me, it was as if my body took on a life of its own without my brain's input. I watched as one would view a movie as my arms quickly embraced her, one hand covering her mouth while the other held her upper body close to mine and my legs pulled backwards until we reached the door. I used my hip to push in the bar that spanned the width of the door and it swung open easily and shut quietly.

The hallway was white and illuminated brightly. I continued to drag her halfway down the hall until I found a small storage closet. It was tiny and I had to straddle her body to get the door shut.

"Please…I have two children" She whimpered as she tried to crawl away, but only pushed harder against the unforgiving cinder block wall. As if I cared. Her protestations were not going to keep me from my goal.

I squatted over her and used my telekinesis to hold her head while I squeezed her neck tightly. I didn't want her to have the breath to scream, which she would attempt any time now. I waited for a few seconds for the oxygen to deplete in her brain so she would become more docile and disoriented, noting first the panic and then the fogginess in her eyes. With my other hand, I pointed at her forehead and cut a thin but deep line as I had done so many times before. She choked and kicked and the terror burned hot in her eyes, but I felt nothing. To me it was much like a chicken running around after the head had been cut off- she simply didn't realize she was dead yet.

I walked out of the library into the darkness of the evening, still wiping my hands with the paper towel I found in the storage room. I tossed it in a nearby garbage can and relished the tingling sensation I got when I acquired a new ability. The ticking sound in my head and the almost physical pain caused by the hunger had subsided and I turned and walked down the busy street in the cool rain feeling whole and happy, although I knew it would not last long.


	2. Chapter 2 Memories

**Chapter 2- Memories**

The rain continued throughout the night and well into the morning hours, but I had hardly moved in all that time. I sat on the floor at the foot of the bed surrounded by an assortment of books in stacks. I found that this new ability had a hunger all its own, I was now driven to accumulate knowledge.

I closed the book I was reading on Greek mythology and stretched. My eyes were tired and my muscles ached from sitting in a hunched position for hours on end. As I lay stretched out on the floor with my arms over my head, I couldn't help but smile.

This new ability combined with my intuitive aptitude made me a formidable threat. The government has spent millions on computers that compile and analyze data looking for patterns, and I could probably do it with much more accuracy than anything the Department of Defense could come up with.

My smile faded as my mind drifted back to the small, dingy apartment in Queens. My mother meant well, but she never really understood me. I never told her what I could do, how could I explain it when I hardly understood it myself? Maybe I could have saved some money I made from the watch repair shop and invested it if I studied the stock market, then she wouldn't have been so unhappy with what little we had. She was so very unhappy and I always felt like a burden to her even when she would look into my eyes, take my face in her hands and tell me how much she loved me.

I couldn't help but think that all that time she was looking to me to make her life better. I, as the man of the house, did have a responsibility to watch over her. God knows Martin Gray didn't. What kind of a man would leave her with a young child in the middle of the night and never come back? I couldn't bring myself to call him Dad; he was no father to me and a poor husband to my mother. Growing up without a male figure was hard, I had to learn how to do the things men do by trial and error, or by piecing together clues from television or books.

Shaving and puberty were nothing short of traumatic. "The Talk" was embarrassingly awkward, although my mother approached it the only way she knew how; to act it out between two stuffed animals she had on the living room shelf. A bit strange to wait until I was 14, but perhaps she couldn't conceive of the thought of her thin, painfully self-conscious, slightly clumsy boy with limbs that always seemed way too long to effectively control as being aware that a second gender existed. I sat quietly with my head down, I didn't have the heart to tell her the whole sexual process was pretty simple and straightforward logic that I had figured out the summer before based on Calvin Klein ads for underwear that I saw on the subway.

With such patchwork information, I sometimes had antiquated ideas of etiquette compared to modern day New York standards, but I adapted as well as I could. I learned to stop standing up when a woman entered the room or even opening doors for them. I can't tell you how many odd looks I got during my teenage years from women, but I got just as many compliments from elderly ladies on my manners. It was painful, but quietly I watched, waited, and learned until I could approximate current metro male habits with ease and blend in with everyone else.

_The great pretender_.

My eyes felt heavy and the pain in my lower back had subsided to a dull ache. As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered what Martin would think of me now, wherever he was. Would he be proud to see the boy he was never really interested in become a man despite his absence? Would he be impressed with my abilities? Would I be someone he would tell his friends or coworkers about? I didn't know why I cared, he left us a long time ago. I shouldn't care…but I did.


	3. Chapter 3 Man in the Mirror

**Chapter 3- Man in the Mirror**

I woke up to the sound of a taxi honking its horn outside. It was dark and the rain had stopped. I rolled over on my stomach as the fog cleared from my head. I felt weak and was slightly amused when I realized that my new obsession had precluded me from eating or drinking in over a day. I lay there a few minutes more, yawning and trying to decide what I wanted to eat. Cereal, delivery, or do I go out for food? The beauty of living in a city as large as New York was it didn't matter what time of the day or night it was, you could pretty much get anything you wanted. If you walked into a diner at 3:00 am looking like hell and pale as death as I no doubt did, no one cared or even looked twice at you. My kind of town.

I rested my head on my arm and sniffed. Then I sniffed again. I picked my head up and wrinkled my nose. Gingerly, I pulled my shirt to my nose and inhaled. I grimaced when I realized that I had not bothered to shower either. I was starting to emit a musky odor that offended even me. Cleansing rituals would have to come before sustenance I decided while doing a pushup into a standing posture from the floor. I felt a little dizzy, but made my way to the bathroom and turned on the hot water in the shower.

I peeled off my soiled clothing and felt refreshed when the slightly cooler ambient air came in contact with my bare skin. The tile floor was cold against the soles of my bare feet and served to wake me up. I caught a glimpse of my nude body in the mirror on the back of the bathroom door. I was still much like that awkward kid with elongated limbs stretched out from a tall, thin frame. The difference now was I was an adult and was no longer stumbling into things. I had learned to execute movements with smooth, exact precision. I was finally comfortable in my own skin.

My body was an efficient tool with which to use my many acquired abilities. There may have been a time when I was younger when I wished I had more muscle mass like the football players. Women seemed attracted to men who had bulky muscles while the guys who had leaner physiques like mine were ignored. I sneered at the thought of being heavily muscled now. I found my body very useful as it was; it was light, nimble and fast.

I prepared the sink with an array of shaving materials. The stubble on my cheeks had grown too long and I rubbed them while looking into the mirror at my reflection. The face of Gabriel Gray looked back at me blankly. His large dark eyes, full lips, and thin face were nothing special to me, but I was working on a curious theory I had noticed. Women seemed attracted to his face if I made it look soft. I widened my eyes a bit, lowered my head slightly and stretched my lips into a wide grin. Woops, too much and that was Sylar. Women, and men for that matter, were afraid of Sylar. I had to work on Gabriel a little more. I practiced with different styles of smiling until I found a medium range that looked non-threatening and unassuming for his face.

I had also found that lowering my voice and speaking in a quiet, slow, precise diction along with Gabriel's face was particularly appealing. Men seemed to prefer slightly more Sylar with an authoritative edge to the voice in a slightly higher range. If the voice was too low or there was too much Sylar, they became defensive and territorial. I found it curious how humans were still very primal despite millions of years of socialization. We are nothing more than slightly tamed animals. I embraced this knowledge, took it as an evolutionary imperative to evolve beyond my more primitive brethren so I may survive while they perish.

I could no longer see my reflection due to the room being filled with hot steam from the shower. I cooled the water a bit before stepping in the shower and relished the feeling of water and slippery soap sliding over my skin and washing away the dirt and oils that had accumulated. I scrubbed my hair and skin until they squeaked and then scrubbed some more. I turned off the water and pulled back the curtain relieved, I felt alive and human again.

I quickly drew a towel across my body to dry most of the water off, but I opened the bathroom door to clear the steam so I could see to shave and figured I would air dry the rest of the way. The air was cold, but refreshing. I wiped condensation off the mirror and proceeded to shave with the old straight razor my mother had given me so long ago. It was sharp and I was mindful of that as I carefully dragged it against my skin, clearing a trail of shaving cream and hair one strip at a time. I had cut myself enough times to know it was something to be avoided. I simply hated walking around the house with small bits of wet toilet paper stuck to my face while waiting for the bleeding to stop. I washed my face and examined my smooth complexion in the mirror. I looked much younger when I was clean shaven, but I knew the hair would be back before the day was over.

Feeling good about being clean, I decided to go out for food. I put on jeans and a sweater and decided to leave my hair as it was when I got out of the shower, messy and untouched. I gathered my wallet and keys and smiled slightly as I strapped my watch to my wrist. The broken face was so familiar and past one of the cracks you could just read "Sylar" printed in white on the black dial. So many memories, so much had changed since those early days when I felt so insignificant and lost.

"Not anymore." I whispered to myself and felt a wicked grin slide across my face as I slammed the door behind me.


	4. Chapter 4 Fire and Ice

**Chapter 4- Fire and Ice**

The streets were teeming with people as it always did at all hours. I walked quickly with my hands shoved in my pockets to ward off the unexpected damp chill that hung in the air. On a night like this there was only one food I would find comforting: something hot and spicy. I knew of a great Thai place that was open late about 5 blocks up. I hurried, driven by my hunger, to weave in and out of slow pedestrians and deftly dodged cars as I darted across streets against the light. Only tourists waited on the walk signal.

A small explosion of warm happiness bloomed in my heart when I approached the tiny shop and noted the lights in the interior glowing a soft amber. I almost pressed my face against the cold window pane in ecstasy, but instead went in and was seated by a young woman who was apparently Thai herself. Her long brownish black hair was shiny and pulled back into a pony tail, exposing her flawless caramel colored skin. She shyly made eye contact with me and led me to a small table by the windows with her head bowed. I smiled, but she scurried away to the kitchen. Too much Sylar again?

She was replaced by a tired looking older man who took my order for green curry chicken with no amount of pleasure and only returned to drop a plate of food in front of me. I never saw him again, but I couldn't have cared less- I was in heaven. I felt the fire slowly build on my lips and in my stomach until I was lightly sweating and reaching for my glass of ice water more often. The pain was exquisite as my belly filled with crushed peppers, grilled chicken, and noodles. I consumed the whole plate with wild abandon and was saddened when only small bits of noodle swimming in green sauce were left behind. Satisfied, I paid the bill and went back out into the night, thankful for the cool air. My core felt like a furnace and I couldn't wait to get home to continue reading.

I walked past a night club that appeared to be busy despite it being the middle of the week. Techno music spilled onto the sidewalk near the entrance as people waited in line and pleaded with the bouncers holding clipboards to get in. I shook my head and wondered if they realized what sheep they were. In the alley, one person was vomiting and three others were lined up urinating on the wall.

I kept walking west, slowing my pace when I became aware that I was being followed. I didn't glance back, but I looked at the reflections of the store windows as I passed them. There were 3 large men about 12 feet behind me, talking amongst themselves and gesturing in my direction. I summoned the ability I took from a mechanic while on a road trip with Mohinder Suresh. I listened carefully, trying to modulate the ability least I pick up the sounds of cockroaches scurrying in buildings 4 blocks away.

"He will be easy. Just hit him in the head on my cue, Jesse and I will do the rest. Don't be such a pussy! Do you want a score or not?"

I smirked. So they think they are going to rob me? I no doubt looked an easy target to them; alone and physically innocuous. My muscles twitched in anticipation, but my mind remained cool and I began formulating my plan.

As a rule I never sought out mortals, or humans without powers, to kill because despite what Bennet or anyone else thought, I was not a petty, common murderer. What would the death of a human benefit me if they had no power? I usually tried to avoid them because it was all too easy, almost effortless to kill them. However, I was not opposed to defending myself.

I walked past the mouth of an alley and heard one of the men break into a run and then I felt him tackle me. We went crashing to the ground, his much larger mass crushing me beneath him. His breath was heavy with alcohol and his clothing smelled of stale cigarettes. I struggled to regain my breath as he hauled me up by my sweater to my feet and slammed me up against a rough brick wall. I looked calmly at him and said in a flat tone, "You were supposed to hit me in the head. You should have stuck to the plan."

His compatriots had rejoined him and moved in close. One pulled a knife and waved it in my direction menacingly. Something in my head twitched. I was going to let them live, but no longer. If I could see no personal benefit in their deaths, I could equally see no benefit to society were I to spare their lives. These men were parasites and deserved to be exterminated. My eyes grew dark and the smirk of absolute power twisted my lips. These men had no chance of escape and no hope for mercy.

I used a powerful telekinetic shove to force the man away from my face. "Just give us your money, boy. You don't know what you are doing." Warned the man with the knife.

I cocked my head slightly and narrowed my eyes. "I know precisely what I am doing. It is you who do not know who you are dealing with." I took a few steps toward him and he lifted his knife defensively. I smirked and lifted two fingers to easily disarm him by tossing the knife onto a second story fire escape.

"What the hell are you?" Growled his friend drawing a gun and pointing it at my chest.

I smiled mockingly and put my hands in the air. "Nothing, if not special."

With another twitch of my fingers, the gun fell and skidded across the pavement near my feet. I made a 'watch this' gesture as I crouched by the gun and hovered my hand over it. After a few seconds, the gun began to quiver and then shake more violently before collapsing into a pool of disambiguated base metal. I looked back up at the man and raised my eyebrows.

All three men stood looking at my creation in disbelief. "And now," I stated standing up, "for you." The men began to back up, but before they could scatter, I held them in place with sheer force. It was physically draining, but there was no turning back now. I slowly approached the immobile men and looked each in the eye. "How should I choose the manner of your deaths?" I mused to myself. "So many ways to die, you mortals are so fragile." I added with a wince.

"Are there more like you?" The man in the middle whispered with awe. I was annoyed at him for breaking the mood with such an asinine question. He would die first just on principle.

"No," I said shaking my head, "there are others out there with powers, but none are quite like _me_. Soon I will hunt them down and kill them too, but first things first." I raised my index finger and made a quick slash across his throat from ear to ear. He gurgled as crimson blood poured from the wound and spilled onto the ground. The other men struggled mightily against my grip, but I held fast. I reached out with my left hand and slowly froze the man nearest the street and then turned my hand to glowing thermonuclear fury and burned the man on the right until he was charred.

I let their bodies drop, took one last look back at the pile of carnage, and continued home without another thought about them.


	5. Chapter 5 Not the Only One

**Chapter 5- Not the Only One**

_I had lied to those men. _

The thought interrupted my reading of NSP1 rotoviral replication. I lowered the book and wondered why such a thing would bother me at all, but particularly now.

_You know you aren't the only one._

As much as I wanted it not to be true, I did know of one other evolved human who seemed to share my ability of collecting powers. Peter Petrelli. In another life or perhaps even 10 years ago, it all seemed the same to me, we may have been friends. If he had a broken watch and came into my shop, who knows? In fact, even now, I had no particular hatred for him other than his near constant and seemingly accidental interference in my agenda.

When I was after the cheerleader for her regenerative ability, he appeared out of nowhere to defend her. I had mistaken him for a mortal, perhaps a fellow student, so I didn't try to kill him…at first. Only when he persisted in coming between me and my goal did I decide that I had to do away with him. I had grossly misjudged the distance of the fall, but managed to turn him midway so I fell on top of him while slowing the descent as best I could with such little time. It only seemed right that he serve as a cushion after what he did. I was still badly hurt, but managed to escape to the woods. Those early mistakes cost me dearly, but I could hardly blame Petrelli for what Bennet and Primatech did to me. All of the tests that nearly killed me…the bastards would pay for that. I couldn't even blame him for taking my telekinetic ability from me while we fell, he didn't understand what he was doing anymore than I did when I discovered my ability.

The last time I saw him was in Suresh's apartment and I couldn't believe my luck when he walked through the door. I held him to the wall and tried to cut his head open only to watch him regenerate. Somehow he had gotten the cheerleader's ability and I was a bit jealous. He had also been practicing with my power and I had to admire that. But then he disappeared, and I was getting angry. How did he acquire so many abilities in such a short time? I was not going to be outdone, so I sprayed shards of glass to make him bleed. I had no intention of killing him and was frankly shocked and disappointed when he fell on the floor with a shard embedded in the back of his skull. What good was regeneration when you could die so easily? I still wanted his invisibility, but damn Suresh had to interfere.

_He will get his comeuppance soon enough. _

Peter was the only one like me that I knew about, but if the two of us existed, there had to be more. I wanted to open his skull and see what made him tick. What made it so easy for him to get powers when I had to go about it the hard way? It was like he was magnetic and powers were attracted to him by default. I wasn't as unique as long as he was in the world. It infuriated me to think about it.

On the table lay a crumpled piece of paper. I glanced at the back page of the 9th Wonders comic book I had stolen from Suresh's apartment. Isaac Mendez. I would have to see him soon. Deep in the pit of my stomach the monster stirred and I knew it was only a matter of time before it demanded to be fed. I couldn't wait to see what ingredients Mendez would add to the menu, but for the time being, I decided to ignore the gnawing sensation and hold out as long as I could before I had to kill again. I picked up my book and continued to fill my head with mRNA replication sequences. You never know when it might come in handy.

**The End**


End file.
